Understanding the audience,
the golden calf fatted descends down
a golden escalator
[orange as the sun]
and nationalists
and fascists floorshow in boots
in the glow of the beast,
a primal hate thought to be tamed.
Focused. Named.
Inevitable: the brute turns.

The flambeau infernos.

Panicked worshippers flee
with question-mark gestures,
accepting no blame.
With gnashing of teeth,
many start bawling,
imagining the mauling
by the bovine
falling down,
coming up.

*[ WSB ]_.